


Lorcan's fears

by Iiandyr



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iiandyr/pseuds/Iiandyr
Summary: Only hours ago, Lorcan was prepared to haul Elide over his shoulder and retreat back into the marshes, Hellas at his side, or no. Now he has to grapple with the aftermath of sending for Maeve's reinforcement. Gavriel is asking the questions Lorcan doesn't want to ask himself.Canon compliant
Relationships: Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Lorcan's fears

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just me trying to make sense of Lorcan's thoughts after calling Maeve in EoS. This is how I imagine his thoughts might have clashed.
> 
> Obligatory English is not my first language comment.
> 
> Take care!

Lorcan had retreated to the railing on the far side of the ship. He had a view over the beaches, where, only hours ago, he had been prepared to haul Elide over his shoulder and retreat back into the marshes, Hellas at his side, or no.

A little ways away, Aelin sat on the stairs leading to the prow, her entourage hanging on to her every word. 

The night was mild, sticky, and they had advanced from talking tactics in the cramped captain’s cabin, where Aelin and Rowan would sleep, to drinking on the ship deck. Lorcan didn’t know where they found the alcohol, nor did he particularly care. Maybe they stole it from some poor sailor too quelled by the presence of royalty to argue.

Elide took small sips whenever the bottle passed her, trying to keep up with the rest, but clearly uncomfortable letting go of her control. Fenrys sat next to her, a look of concern and guilt plaguing his features every time he handed her the bottle. The Wolf occasionally slipped a glance over at Lorcan, as if trying to decipher him.

He and Fenrys would have it out eventually, over that mark on her arm. In the meantime, Lorcan was confident the Wolf wasn’t a danger to Elide. Those quick, guilty glances were enough of a marker of that. 

After the meeting this afternoon Lorcan had needed some peace, to recover from the near-burnout, and had chosen to step away from the crowd. He was carefully watching the bay, not trusting those sailors and witches and friends of Aelin’s to notice a threat in time. Maeve could strike at any time, from anywhere. Not even his powers were enough to ensure they would have time to prepare if that happened. _When_ that happened.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? He hadn’t given it a second thought, just acted on instinct. Those forces were closing in, and Aelin had kept him in the dark, and he hadn’t been able to control it as that dark tendril found its way out of him to call for Maeve. If Elide were in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

That’s why he had chosen to step away, under the guise of being look-out, to consider what to do with this information. If Aelin found out he had called for Maeve, what would she do? She certainly would not let him near Elide again.

Fenrys handed Elide the bottle of alcohol, and Elide again took a tiny swig. Lorcan could feel her, trying to relax in the company of her court, but never quite letting him out of her sight. Like she couldn’t quite relax unless she knew he was near, either.

The thought warmed his insides, as if he were the one sharing that bottle with her.

Gavriel appeared on the stairs, emerging from the gut of the ship. The Lion noticed Elide next to Aelin, and he gave her a silent nod. 

Elide nodded back and lifted her arm where that tiny mark betrayed her near death-experience, no doubt to once again thank the Lion, but he heeded her no mind, his gaze instead sliding over to Lorcan.

Locan felt a growl rumble through his chest at that dismissal, but held it in as Gavriel approached him with fast steps.

The Lion spoke. “Can we talk?” 

Lorcan considered. He wasn’t much for talking, but the Lion’s face was serious, intently scanning Lorcan’s every move. 

Lorcan slid his eyes to Elide, who giggled at something Aelin said.

“She’ll be safe”, the Lion continued, seeing Lorcan’s thoughts with those eyes of his. “It will just take a moment.”

Lorcan deemed that to be true enough and grunted in acquiescence. “Just for a moment then.” 

He made sure Elide saw him leave toward the stern of the ship, feeling her attention like a sheen of sweat on his skin. She gave Fenrys a questioning glance, and Lorcan wondered what the Wolf would make of this. Did he know what Gavriel wanted to talk about?

Gavriel led him to the very back of the ship, where even Aelin and Lysandra’s laughter was dimmed by the fanning waves beneath them, before the Lion turned around and said:

“What are your intentions with her?”

Lorcan froze, all his muscles preparing for fight. His jaw popped from how hard he bit down. The burnout flickered too close for comfort.

“None of your business”, he ground out.

Gavriel only crossed his arms and gave him that fatherly look he’d taken to recently, ever since he found out about that brat of his. Like he knew something Lorcan couldn’t possibly understand, just because he’d managed to sire a child. 

“She’s in Aelin’s court. It certainly is _her_ business. Would you rather you two have this conversation?” he said, his voice colder than Lorcan could remember hearing it before.

“Aelin knows not to interfere in other people’s affairs”, he retorted, mimicking Gavriel’s crossed arms over his own chest.

The Lion didn’t miss a beat. “Well, what do you think Maeve would have to say about it, then?”

Lorcan could feel the blood drain from his face. He hadn’t considered that. Hadn’t _wanted_ to consider that.

“You’re still blood-sworn to Maeve. Do you think she will let you keep a member of Aelin’s court around? What would she even be -- your pet?”

A snarl escaped Lorcan, and he felt his lips curl to show his fangs. It took five hundred years of self-control to keep from lashing out. 

Gavriel at least had the good sense to look worried at that. The Lion backed away a step and hastily looked toward the circle where Aelin sat with her court.

That look was enough to remind Lorcan that Elide was close by. She wouldn’t appreciate him killing the Fae who had saved her life only hours earlier, while Lorcan only sat worthlessly beside her, feeling that light slipping between his fingers. 

The thought was sobering. She had been so close to death, and that had been Maeve’s fault. His chest strained, something trying to claw its way out. Something he hadn’t known still lived in there. 

He cleared his throat. “I … I don’t know what to do”, he admitted. That something in his chest beat hard, and so loud he could hardly hear his next words over the rushing of blood through his head. “I don’t want to be blood-sworn to Maeve.”

It was as close as he had been to betraying his queen for five centuries, apart from that trek to Mistward. What had happened to the reliable commander he had once been? But as he said it, the thought rooted in him, making its home in his chest. It felt like a bird fluttering before calmly settling down.

Gavriel came closer. Slowly, so as not to rekindle Lorcan’s instincts, the Lion put a hand on Lorcan’s shoulder.

“I know”, the other man said, not quite facing Lorcan, but looking out over the water. “We will have to see how it all plays out. Not much longer now, I imagine.” Then, with a small smile: “Seeing as you couldn’t control yourself nearly as well on that beach as you did just now.”

Lorcan swallowed, the thoughts from earlier returning. Of course his cadre would know what he had done on the beach. They knew his warning call, had been the object of that omen many times through-out the centuries. Maybe he wouldn’t have to choose between Elide and blood-oath, between Elide and life. Maybe Aelin would make that choice for him long before Maeve got here.

“Will you tell Aelin?” was all he could get out, hating how his voice hitched at the question. As his thoughts spiralled into those scenarios his mind had been spinning for him all evening. Scenarios where Aelin kicked him off the ship, where she took Elide and disappeared beyond the horizon before Maeve could show up. His chest tightened and stung, the feeling akin to what he’d felt that time Elide had almost followed through on her resolve to not return to Morath.

Gavriel gave him that all-knowing look again, sipping on his answer like a fine wine.

“No”, the Lion said, and Lorcan felt a hiss escape him, the vice on his newfound heart letting go ever so slightly.

Gavriel continued: “But if she hasn’t figured it out on her own, Rowan will certainly have told her by now.”

Lorcan realized that had to be true. Even before Maeve released Rowan from the blood-oath, even before he swore it to Aelin, Lorcan doubted Rowan would have been able to keep anything from his queen. But if Aelin knew, and she hadn’t confronted him …?

As if Gavriel could read his mind, or maybe Lorcan’s thoughts were obvious from the look on his face, the Lion kept talking.

“Aelin isn’t Maeve. If she hasn’t brought it up yet she has probably accepted it, incorporated it into her plans somehow.” The Lion considered, cocking his head to the side in a cat-like gesture, maybe picked up over his years in his other skin. “No, I don’t think she blames you. Elide on the other hand …”

Lorcan stretched a hand out to grab the railing, the Lion, anything to steady himself. That pain in his chest stung like a serrated knife, slowly sawing its way through. He hadn’t even considered …

Elide loved her queen, more than life. She would not be as forgiving. 

“I didn’t …” Lorcan managed to utter, no idea what he wanted to say. What he _could_ say. Just minutes earlier he had justified his actions to himself, telling himself he would do it again under the same circumstances. These months with her had shown him there was little he wouldn’t do to keep her safe. But if that safe-keeping meant she would hate him? If it made her want nothing to do with him? How could he bear that? 

The Lion could no doubt see the thoughts racing over his face.

Laughter traveled over the deck, and this time Elide’s voice was among the merriment. Lights glittered in the water from the lanterns Aelin had lit to illuminate their circle of friends.

Elide’s friends. Her court. Even if she decided to hate him, never talk to him again, she would be fine. She had people looking out for her now. If Aelin shoved Lorcan off at the next island and he never saw Elide again, she wouldn’t be alone. She would at least be safe from Maeve.

He wanted to be the one to take care of her, the one who braced her ankle, was beside her as she killed her uncle and stepped into her shoes as Lady of Perranth. But even if he wasn’t, she would be fine. And that was … fine. As long as she was alive.

“I don’t know what’s between you two”.

Gavriel’s voice called Lorcan back to the present. He had forgotten the Lion was there, analyzing every shadow passing over Lorcan’s countenance.

The Lion’s eyes were sympathetic now. A wet sheen over the irises. “I don’t know her well enough to know how she feels, but your feelings are obvious. As I healed her, I felt … “ He trailed off and when he met Lorcan’s stare again that sheen was gone. “You need to talk to her.”

Lorcan nodded numbly. He knew it. It had to be her choice. She needed to know what she was choosing between. 

Gavriel took a step back, making as if to retreat, and only that cocking of the head alerted Lorcan that there was something demanding their attention. That _step-half step-step_ that had become so familiar to him over the last few months emerged. How had he been so distracted he hadn’t realized she’d left her spot at Aelin’s feet to come find them?

She came into view from behind the rig, a smile lighting her face as she found them at the stern. That bird in his chest took flight again, and he felt the corner of his mouth lift in answer to her.

Gavriel’s hand grazed Lorcan’s shoulder in sympathy, and then the Lion walked toward Elide. He gave her a short nod as they passed each other, and Elide’s eyes turned serious for a second. When they were alone she looked back to Lorcan, and took those last steps in a stride.

She smelled slightly of the alcohol, but her gaze was as penetrating as ever. Her lips opened to speak, and Lorcan’s every fibre rallied on her mouth. 

“I’m going to bed. I found us two hammocks.” Her words came out soft, and the bird in his chest did a loop.

He nodded, too moved and exhausted to say anything. Gavriel’s words still aching, forcing him to deliberate. But he was selfish. Just a few minutes more of this. They would talk in the morning. Maybe Maeve wouldn’t come, after all.

She took his hand, and he let her lead them under the deck. He crashed into his hammock next to her, his thoughts still swimming in his head, making him dizzy. He was lulled to sleep by the undulating waves, enveloped in her sweet scent. As he drifted off a last thought entered his mind. Maybe she would choose him. If that happened, he could live with the rest.


End file.
